


Just the Two of Us and No Sheets

by knarcelestial



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Author takes that back, But also they're kind of the worst, Damsels in Distress, Frustrated Peter, He doesn't like to acknowledge them though, Identity Reveal, It's Me Ya Boi, Love Confessions, M/M, Peter Has Feelings, Peter doesn't like being called that apparently, Peter has good friends, Peter is smol bun, Protective Wade, Protective Wade Wilson, Smol bun that needs protectin, Supposed Cheating, Unwanted attention, Wade Wilson Needs A Hug, Wade is confused bun, Wade's Audition for Hamlet's Monologue, Weasel isn't Helping, hey fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-06-02
Packaged: 2019-05-15 07:44:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14786345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knarcelestial/pseuds/knarcelestial
Summary: The following minutes consist of a rather theatrical monologue of Mack explaining how he’d started his own fish business from scratch, and, really, Peter would be interested on any other day, but- No scratch that, Peter would rather eat nails than hear Mack rant on another second about the percentage of fish with skin lesions. Where the hell was Wade?[The Sequel (Chapter 2) as requested is up! Check it out :)]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING: Hey guys! Just wanted to let you all know that Peter does receive unwanted attention in this fic. While nothing does actually happen, an OC does persistently hit on Peter. If you feel that this sort of content may trigger something, please feel free to not read this. Take care of yourselves, folks!
> 
>  
> 
> Title credits to Concrete by Tom Odell. This song is literally spideypool's song, y'all. Check it out!

 

 

 

 

 

***

Peter is frustrated.

 

Not only is this asshole getting handsy with him, but Peter can’t do a _damn thing_ about it because there are cameras all around and he can’t whip out his spidey web magic without raising some serious, mask unyielding questions in the future.

 

God, this dude just needs to _chill_.

 

“I’m waiting for someone already. But, um, thank you for the… unnecessarily explicit proposal for the night.” Peter tries really subtle to remove the man’s hands off of his waist. But, the idiot is drunk and clearly not understanding any sort of social queues, so Peter just straight up shoves the guy off of his seat.

 

The man winces when he lands on his ass, but he’s too shitfaced to be getting up anytime soon, so Peter takes that as his cue and leaves. He’s halfway across the bar, thankful that he’s managed to evade a situation that could have dramatically escalated into something else, when yet again another person grabs on to his arm.

 

Peter turns to tell them off, but then stops when he’s confronted with the sheer presence of this guy. The man isn’t _huge_. He’s only got a couple of inches on Peter and yeah, probably a lot of muscle on his frame, but nothing that Spiderman couldn’t take care of. Unfortunately, for him, Spiderman isn’t the one that all the men in the bar are getting gropey with, it’s Peter: small, skinny, nerdy Peter. Defenseless Peter that got reluctantly dragged along to the bar to ‘Have a night of fun’ because he needs to ‘let loose and enjoy himself’ once in a while.

 

Peter reckons that this isn’t what MJ was talking about when she wanted Peter to have a little fun tonight. Hell, where even is she? If she heard what that guy was going to do to Peter if he went home with him, she would’ve ‘kung fu’d that boy’s ass back to his mama’s womb’ and would’ve told Peter to ‘go home, sweetie, I got this’.

 

Peter curses. Damn Ned and his national robotics’ win, damn Harry and his overzealous party streak, damn Michelle for dragging him along when he has two papers due tomorrow for his microbiology class.

 

He’s brought out of his thoughts when the burly man who Peter vaguely remembers introducing himself as Mack, tugs on his arm to bring him back around to the bar.

 

“Um, Mr. Mack, sir. I really should be going? My friends are heading out right now, and-”

 

“I don’t think they’ll be missing you much, doll. They haven’t been by your side since you all arrived earlier tonight.”

 

A cold feeling settles deep in his stomach. His throat is tight and the next couple of words tumble out like he’s just gotten the breath kicked out of him. “Have you been watching me?”

 

Mack chuckles and Peter feels it where the man’s still got a sure grip on his arm. “Course, I’ve been watching you, sweetheart. Ever since your pretty ass swayed its way in here, all the boys in here have been gawking. Lucky for you, tonight’s beer pong Friday! Which means all the boys are in for the night. So, why don’t we go ahead and give them all a little show, yeah?”

 

Peter takes a tentative step back, only to have the edge of the bar counter dig deep into his back. “I really should be going. Got work tomorrow and all that.” He chuckles lightly in a sad attempt to diffuse the situation and side steps Mack to get away, when burly hands cage him back into the counter. “I _really_ don’t think you should.”

 

Mack turns around and Peter sighs in relief when his immediate vicinity isn’t being overwhelmed by the smell of alcohol and cigarettes. “What do you think boys? Do you want the pretty boy to leave so soon?” To Peter’s growing dismay, he hears a lot of booing and catcalls to ‘get on with it, Mack-y boy!’

 

Bad, bad, bad. Peter _really_ needs to get out of here.

 

Mack turns around and leans in a little with a smug smile. “The crowd has spoken, baby. Let’s get this show on the road.”

 

Peter swallows the bile rising up in his throat and forces on a strained smile. “Can I use the bathroom really quick? Um, all of this excitement really has my adrenaline rushing, you know?”

 

Mack leers lasciviously at Peter’s body in a once over and Peter really, _really_ tries not to cringe openly. “Oh, I see how it is, pretty boy. Yeah, sure. Be quick, though, alright?”

 

Peter nods. “Yes, absolutely, definitely. Be right back.” Peter shuffles away and towards the bathrooms. Before he enters, however, he hears Mack call out to him. “Hey, no funny business, you hear me? There isn’t a window in there, so no escaping.”

 

Peter grins at him through his pain, and gives him a thumbs up. “You got it, Mack!”

 

  
He runs to the last stall and thanks the Gods that the rest of them are empty. He slams the door shut and then locks it twice over, just to make sure. Scrambling with his phone, he scrolls through his contacts and realises that all of his immediate friends are either definitely sloshed or definitely unavailable while trying to make sure his other friends don’t get into any trouble while sloshed.

 

Ugh, his friends are the _worst_.

 

He definitely can’t call May. No-o, that’s an embarrassing situation that Peter would gladly like to avoid for another five years, minimum.

 

There’s a loud pounding from outside the stall and Mack is standing right there, _oh my God_. “I hope you’re not getting second thoughts in there.”

 

“No! No, definitely not! Just have to make a quick phone call to a friend.” There’s silence outside, and Peter really hopes he hasn’t blown his slight advantage. “Meet me outside once you’re done.”

 

Peter sighs with so much relief, he sags against the wall. _Small mercies._ The door thumps shut on his way out and Peter is left to eerie silence once again.

 

The moment is shattered when Taylor Swift’s Bad Blood alerts him of a new text from Wade.

 

_W- cubed <3: Hey Petey Pie! Just wanted to know if we were still on for tomorrow night?_

 

_W-cubed <3: You know, if you’re not free, that’s cool, too. I’ll just, you know, chill here at my place. Alone._

 

_W-cubed <3: All alone. Lonely. In my apartment. By himself. Alone._

 

If Peter were in a better situation, he would roll his eyes at the message. But like a guardian angel descending from heaven during a time of great need, Wade presents himself as the ultimate solution.

 

Peter rings him immediately.

 

“Petey! I was just thinking about you!” Wade’s cheery voice does impressive things to calm down Peter’s frantic state.

 

“Wade?” But the voice Peter answers with must still be a little shaky because Wade’s tone immediately turns dark. “Peter, are you okay?”

 

“Wade, I need your help.”

 

He hears background noise and Peter imagines Wade shuffling off of his couch and throwing on civvies. “Where are you?”

 

“27th and Main. The Deville. Please come quick.”

 

“I’ll be there in five minutes. You think you’ll be okay until then?”

 

Peter nods and then realises that Wade can’t see him. “Yeah, I’ll be okay.”

 

Peter hears a door slamming and loud thudding down the stairs. “Hang in there, baby boy. I’ll see you soon.”

 

Wade hangs up and Peter finally allows himself to breathe a little. Everything is going to be okay. Wade was coming.

 

***

Peter takes a hesitant step out of the bathroom, his only shelter from the chaos that was his evening, and makes his way back to the bar as slowly as was possible in this time sensitive situation.

 

He slips back into a chair and waits for Mack to approach him. Peter, is frankly, extremely peeved about this entire thing. But, he also understands the repercussions of what would happen were he to reveal himself. Which leads him to a question that he finds himself asking more often than not nowadays when he’s with a particular mercenary. If it comes down to it, what was more important: his secret identity or his safety?

 

The thoughts rush out of him as he sees Mack take the stool next to him. Trying to stall for a little time, Peter asks him to buy him a drink.

 

“You sure you’re old enough for that?” Peter raises an eyebrow, because that answer strikes him as odd.

 

If Mack was so concerned about him breaking the laws, then maybe he shouldn’t, you know, be propositioning someone who was clearly _not interested._

 

“I’m twenty. But, I won’t tell, if you won’t.” The smile that makes its way across Mack’s face makes Peter want to smack him upside the head. And if this was any other night and Peter was _patrolling,_ then he sure as hell would have.

 

“Alright, sweet thing. Sure. What’s your name, by the way?” The bartender sets a drink in front of him, but Peter wasn’t going to drink it anyways. He swirls in absent finger on the rim of the glass. “Peter.” He responds.

 

“Just Peter?”

 

He doesn’t actually expect Peter to give him his name, does he? “Peter Wilson.”

 

Mack smirks and he’s leaning in way too close for Peter’s comfort. Peter dissuades him with a palm to his chest in what he hopes comes off as at least somewhat seductive. “So, uh, what do you do for a living?”

 

Mack chuckles, but he leans back, and Peter, well, he can’t actually believe that worked.

 

The following minutes consist of a rather theatrical monologue of Mack explaining how he’d started his own fish business from scratch, and, really, Peter would be interested on any other day, but- no scratch that, Peter would rather eat nails than hear Mack rant on another second about the percentage of fish with skin lesions. Where the hell was Wade?

 

As if the thought has summoned him, the door to the bar bursts open right then to reveal Wade in all of his pajama glory.

 

Other than a black hoodie that covers his scarred face, Wade looks like he’d gotten straight up out of bed. Peter tries not to trail his eyes down the grey sweatpants that hug Wade’s thighs _so snugly_ , but clearly fails to do so because Mack takes notice and then slams his beer down like he’s about to start a fight. Oh my God, the fucking idiot.

 

“Who’s this guy? Your boyfriend?” Mack snarls and digs a rough hand into the dip of Peter’s waist to drag him into his side. Peter tenses and tries to push away, but that only serves to provoke Mack even more. His lips curl into a frown. “You little prick, you were so ready for me but you already got yourself a man, donchya?”

 

“Get your hands off of him.” Wade’s fists are clenched so tight at his sides that even Peter can see the whites of his knuckles through the warm, pink flesh.

 

Mack laughs like Wade is being _hilarious_. “And why would I do that?” He tugs Peter so that he’s facing him and runs his nose along the length of Peter’s ear until he’s nuzzling his neck. Peter tries his best to squirm away, but Mack is a lot stronger than Peter at this point and it honestly wouldn’t do much.

 

Wade takes a threatening step forward and Peter can’t believe he’s restrained himself so far from not taking this guy’s head off. “If you want to live for longer than the night, then I highly recommend that you walk away, _right now_.”

 

Surprisingly, it’s not Wade that ends up ripping Mack off of him, it’s a woman. “ _Mack_. Do you know who that is?”

 

Mack growls and shakes the lady’s grip off of him. “What the hell, Martha! Go mind your own damn business.” He starts to turn around but stops when he hears Martha’s distressed hiss. “That’s _Deadpool_ , you idiot.”

 

The pub falls so silent, that Peter can hear his own heart beating in his chest.

 

Mack whips around to face Wade and stutters out an apology so pathetic, that it even makes Peter crack a little smile. Oh God, should Peter be smiling right now? Is that even an appropriate reaction? Peter frowns at his thoughts, but cuts his introspection short when Mack yelps in front of him and runs in the opposite direction. Huh. Peter must’ve missed something while he was spaced out.

 

Wade makes his way over and gestures for Peter to take a seat. “You okay, baby boy?”

 

Peter loves that Wade can still be so gentle with him when just seconds before he was full on ready to blow this place up _for_ him. “Yeah. Thanks for having my back, Wade.”

 

Wade scoffs like Peter’s offended him and tucks him into his arms. “Anytime, Petey.”

 

Wade smells like gunpowder, peppermint, and small traces of laundry detergent. He feels like warmth and safety and like _home_ and Peter can’t think of anyone else that he’d want to be with right now.

 

When Wade pulls away, Peter almost whines for him to _come back, I’m cold_ , but resists when he sees Wade reaching into his pocket for something.

 

He takes out a mint and shoves it into Peter’s face. “Want one?”

 

Peter huffs but takes it anyways. “Is that why you always smell like bad mouth freshener?”

 

Wade gasps and jabs a finger in his face. “You take that back.”

 

Peter ignores him completely. “We still on for tomorrow?”

 

Wade rolls his eyes. “Of _course_ we’re still on for tomorrow, Petey. Don’t bail on me now. You still have to avenge yourself for that epic ass beating you received in Mario Kart the other day.”

 

Peter jumps down from the stool and tugs on the front of Wade’s hoodie until he’s bent down to eye level with him. “How about we change up the plans a little and make that today night.”

 

Wade takes a visible gulp and nods slowly. “And tomorrow night?”

 

Peter bites at his lower lip before leaning up on his toes to reduce the space between them. “I think I can think of a few things that we could get _up_ to.”

 

Wade doesn’t miss the pun. He huffs out an unbelieving laugh and wraps a strong arm around Peter’s waist to pull them together until there’s no space left at all. “Oh, baby boy. You _are_ such a tease.”

 

Peter leans in close enough that their lips are brushing and then pulls away completely.

 

“Race me back to your place?”

 

Wade groans but follows right after him. “O-oh. You’re on, baby boy!”

 

***

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Make It Work

 

 

 

***

The next night, they _totally_ get _up_ to things.

 

“Wade, please. Just a little more. I need you to push it in a little deeper, okay. I know you have it in you. Maximum effort, yeah?”

 

Wade grunts and then wheezes, pulling a hand free to wipe off the sweat dotting his forehead. “This is a lot harder than it seems, baby boy.”

 

Peter rolls his eyes. “Yes, I know. But you promised that you’d make this a fun night for us and that it didn’t have to be _difficult_ , but with that sort of attitude you’re just being a party-pooper.”

 

Wade stares at Peter in disbelief. “Okay, first of all, I am not being difficult! If anyone is being _difficult_ here, it’s _you_ , Mr. Everything-must-be-done-right-on-the-first-try. And second of all, not going to lie, Petey, this is _not_ what I thought you had in mind when you said we were going to be getting _up_ to things tonight.”

 

Peter stares up at him from the floor, head tilted so far back it looks like it might snap soon if he doesn’t gently ease it back down.

 

Wade glares back at him from his place on top of the three-step ladder and points at the broom in his hand. “I didn’t think you’d be making me _dust your air ducts_.”

 

Peter does this insufferably adorable thing with his head where he tilts it to the side a little and his big, doe eyes go _real_ big and he flicks a pink tongue out to lick his lower lip and- God damn it, Wade can already feel his knees quaking underneath him as he turns to mush. “I thought you got the pun?”

 

“I got the wrong _reference_ from the pun, sweetheart.”

 

Peter’s face scrunches up in confusion. “What did you think I meant, then?”

 

Wade sighs and waves his hands around in the air. “You _know_ , up in the sense that some of our nether regions might be standing up, not that I’d be going up altitude wise.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Wade can practically _see_ the red flush creeping its way up Peter’s neck. “ _Oh_.”

 

“ _Yeah_.”

 

Then stretches out a dreadfully long minute in which the both of them try to look at anywhere but each other.

 

“I was _obviously_ wrong to think that you would want to-” Wade says at the same time that Peter says, “Well, you weren’t wrong to assume that-”

 

Another pause.

 

“Wait, so-”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Should we take this to the bedroom or-”

 

“ _Hell_ yes.”

 

 

***

 

Wade groans and slams his forehead against the bar counter in front of him but then pulls back immediately when flashes of two drunk chicks going at it on top of the thing return to him from the night before. Knowing Weasel, the asshole probably just poured vodka all over it to sterilize it.

 

“What do I do, Weez? I feel like such a dickwad.”

 

Weasel wipes down a beer mug and puts it right back in with the dirty ones. “Listen Wade. You came in here four hours ago and haven’t moved since. I thought your ugly, avocado shitface was just sad, but evidently it’s more than that since you’ve been mumbling absolute bullshit in French for the entire time.”

 

Wade sighs and nods. “French _is_ the language of sorrow.”

 

Weasel yells at a guy in the back to bring out some more blades for death darts and turns back to his distressed friend. “No, Wade. French is the language of love. Something you’ve never experienced.”

 

Wade growls and throws his glass at Weasel’s face. “Haven’t you been listening?! I’m in love with Peter!”

 

Weasel takes a double take. “Who is what now?”

 

“Peter. Peter Parker.”

 

“Yeah, who _is_ that?”

 

Wade takes a knife sitting nearby and starts picking at his nails, obviously trying to avoid the conversation. “The guy I’m in love with.”

 

Weasel takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “We’re obviously not getting anywhere with this little heart-to-heart of ours.”

 

Wade groans and slams his forehead back onto the counter. Damn hygiene. “I cheated on him, Weez. I don’t deserve either of them.”

 

Weasel takes a _triple_ take. “Cheated on _who_?!”

 

“Spidey, Weasel! Oh my God, it’s like you’re not even listening!”

 

“Since when have you been dating _Spiderman_!”

 

“Since-” Somewhere through their screamfest, Wade got up out of his seat, but now he sits his ass back down because he has some serious contemplating to do. “Huh. I’m not dating Spidey, am I?”

 

Weasel tells Dopinder to get him some ice so that he can cool off his headache and takes a seat, as well. “Listen Wade, I don’t know what sick, twisted world you think you’re living in. But, Spiderman would _never_ date you, you understand me?”

 

Wade sighs. “I know, Weez. It’s just I love Spidey, too. And then there’s Peter, and I just don’t _know_ , man. What do I do?”

 

“I say you smash both of them, DP!” Dopinder’s thoughtful suggestion rings out from the kitchen and at least _that_ brings out a small smile from Wade. This day has been sucky enough as it is.

 

“Thank you, my fluffy little nugget muffin. But, unfortunately, that is not an option. I can’t hurt either them. They’re both too good for that.”

 

Weasel shakes his head and lays an assuring hand on Wade’s shoulder. “No, Wade. They’re both too good for _you_.”

 

Wade’s head droops. “I know, Weez.”

 

Weasel nods. “No problem, Pool. I got your back. Anyways, I suggest you clear up this mess with the both of them. Just tell them straight up what the sich is. If they agree to a threesome, then hey win-win, am I right? Plus, what’s the worst that could happen? Just some yelling, maybe a vase being smashed against the wall in fury, most probably a slap across the face, the usual, you know? Nothing you haven’t dealt with before.”

 

“I could lose the both of them.”

 

“Psht, you can recover from _that_.”

 

Wade throws Weasel a weak smile in response, but he isn’t so sure about that.

 

 

***

 

Wade finds Spidey sitting in their usual spot. He’s got his back facing Wade and his legs are dangling over the ledge with what seems to be a fresh bag of tex mex by his side. The sight alone makes Wade ache a little on the inside.

 

He hides out behind a water tower and waits. For what, he really doesn’t know. He just doesn’t want to waste these final moments. He takes a good, hard look at the boy before him and burns the image into his mind. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get to see Spidey like this around him again: calm, peaceful, and happy.

 

Wade remembers the exact day that Spidey told him that his spidey sense no longer alerted him of Wade’s presence. When Wade asked why, Spidey gave him a shrug and a mask-covered smile. He didn’t fully understand his spider senses yet, but from what he could make of it, he felt _safe_ around him, protected and secure.

 

That was probably when Wade knew he’d fallen. And he’d fallen _hard_.

 

Wade curses beneath his breath. Spidey deserves to know. And Wade needs to tell him.

 

Wade takes a step out from behind the hiding place only to crash into the younger superhero himself.

 

“What were you doing hiding there?”

 

Wade panics. “U-um, whacking off? My, ugh, my paintbrush?” _Please have a paintbrush in here somewhere, please have a_ god damn _wooden stick of art in these pockets._

 

“Oh sweet baby Jesus.” Wade pulls out a paintbrush and thrusts it in Spidey’s face. “See?” Oh God, it was wet. Why was it wet? What _made_ it wet?

 

Spidey seems to be convinced though. They both were past the stage where strange excuses weirded them out, anyways.

 

“Oookay… You alright, Wade?”

 

Wade sighs. He just needs to rip the bandaid off. “Spidey, can we talk?”

 

He sees Spidey open his mouth a little and then clamp it back down shut like he was going to regret what he was about to say. “Yes, we should. I wanna tell you something, too.”

 

Wade nods and directs them back to the ledge. When they sit down, Spidey sits down so close, their thighs are touching. But, Wade wants to give his space- he’ll definitely need it after what Wade’s about to tell him- and scoots away from him. Spidey frowns at the action, but doesn’t say anything about it.

 

“Why do you look like you just watched someone kick a puppy and then eat it?”

 

Wade grabs his travel size unicorn plushie out of his pocket for luck and then takes a deep breath. “Look, Spidey. I don’t know what this is between us. I don’t even know if you even _feel_ the same way that I do about you. But, I feel like if I don’t get this out in the open tonight then I would never be able to live with myself-”

 

“Wade.”

 

“-And I know I can’t like _die_ , but it might be the closest thing that I could ever get to it? This doesn’t really make any sense, but I’m just going to go for it here, okay? Last night, I did the lovey dovey with this guy, Peter Parker. I think I might be a little in love with him? He’s everything that I’m not and the realisation slowly crept into me two nights ago when he called me from this pub and this dude was hitting on him, and I seriously wanted to off the guy’s balls-”

 

“Wade, I swear to God.”

 

“-But it turned out okay in the end because I saved Petey-pie and now he’s safe and sound, like he always needs to be. And I’m telling you all of this because I feel so _conflicted_? Because while I do love Petey, I love you too. And I just can’t stop thinking about what happened last night and how it might affect our relationship, if it even is one, but I just want you to know that whatever happens tonight-”

 

“Oh my Gosh, Wade!”

 

“-I’ll always love you. You can totally hate me after all of this too, I deserve it, okay.” Wade sighs crestfallen and shakes his head. “I always do something like this and fuck everything up and-”

 

“Wade Winston Wilson!”

 

Wade looks up at Peter and shushes him with a finger. “Petey, please. I’m really close to finishing my theatrical love crisis monologue here, okay? If you could just be patient-”

 

“Wade, look at me. Just, please-” Peter takes Wade’s face in his hands and physically turns the man towards him. “Well? What do you see?”

 

Wade narrows his eyes. “What do you mean? Is there something that I’m not-”

 

Peter laughs and leans forward until their lips are almost brushing.

 

_Oh God, Wade_ hates _de ja vu_ …

 

Peter repeats his statement. “What do you see?”

 

Wade calms down enough to take a deep, long look at him. “Big, sparkling, chocolate, doe eyes, that look surprisingly really, _really_ famili-” Wade pulls back abruptly. “Oh my God! Spidey I can see your _eyes_! You took off your mask! I can’t believe-”

 

The realisation hits him like a cement brick hits a piece of paper. “Peter?!”

 

Peter chuckles. “Yes, you big oaf. Took you long enough to notice.”

 

Wade runs his eyes down Peter’s body and sees the way the suits clings to him in all the right places. All of a sudden, Wade has _so_ much more appreciation for spandex than he’d had before _. God,_ it all makes so much more sense, now.

 

“Peter Parker. Never in my entire life have I ever been so distressed-”

 

Peter shuts him up with a kiss.

 

This one isn’t like the ones that they exchanged the night before, though. It’s slow and shy, and deep and gravitating. Wade kisses like he kills: hard, passionate, and calculated. But, Peter kisses like he lives: stubborn, nurturing, and kind. It’s a hell of a clash, but somehow they make it work. _Together._

 

***

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think in the comments below!

**Author's Note:**

> How'd you guys like the story? Let me know in the comments below!
> 
> Also, I'm planning on writing a little identity reveal thingy as a sequel to this piece. What do you think?


End file.
